


Paradise; the Length of a Love Song

by Mthaelly



Series: Kar'taylir darasuum laar [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Clan Vizla and the bullshit I make them do, Cus who doesn't like AnGst?, I have forgotten most of Clone War's plot so my timeline is probably wrong, Intersex, M/M, Male Lactation, Of course with a dose of ANGST at the end, Omega Verse, This literally the most fluffy fic I've written, fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mthaelly/pseuds/Mthaelly
Summary: The bud of the flower blooms the fullest in the height of spring; Din and Paz have already fallen.Spring is short however, and the first petal falls as soon as it appears.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Series: Kar'taylir darasuum laar [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639393
Comments: 14
Kudos: 93





	Paradise; the Length of a Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> I had no intentions for the fic to end up this long lol. Welp, hope you like it anyway ;).

"Move those hips Paz, don't be a log."

  
  
  
  
  


The boy gritted his teeth, trying to do as he was told. The Vizsla patriarch meanwhile, came up to the boy who was stopped midway in his steps, balancing precariously a book on his head and a porcelain teacup in his hand. His left leg twisted uncomfortably over his right as he attempted to follow the sequence of the steps drawn onto the large piece of paper on the floor. A large hand came up to his shoulders and with quite some considerable force, pushed it down.

  
  


"Loosen up a bit Paz. Don't be so stiff." His father reprimanded. He yelped as his Rusol's large armoured boot nudged his ankle to twist further, lining up with the red line of the 78th step drawn onto the paper. The man proceeded to adjust the tipping book over his head and returned to the side to observe Paz's posture. The boy struggled to maintain his balance in his current predicament. His father sighed.

  
  


"I don't recall you ever looking so miserable before,son." Rusol observed the lines of frustrated concentration on his youngest son's forehead, and the heavy crease of the boy's blonde eyebrows.

  
  


"You look more like you're suffocating than dancing ad'ika." 

  
  


"I am Father." He gritted out, the teacup resting in his hand starting to shake more violently as his body strained to maintain position while also not toppling over at the same time. The muscles of his thighs were already starting to burn from keeping up to his uncomfortable pose.The Vizsla patriarch starred for a while longer at the flailing boy, before eliciting a long and heavy sigh. Paz could only feel relief as the book resting on his head was taken away, as was the porcelain teacup. He immediately slumped to the floor, none the more grateful for the break. His father on the other hand, didn't look pleased; the man staring down at him with his arms crossed.

"We've been going at this for hours, my son. Yet you've not learned any more than you did a day ago." Paz stared back rather petulantly at his Father.

  
  
  


"There is nothing to learn, Father." 

  
  


"At least, nothing of worth that is." He muttered softly, spiteful. Rusol shook his head, chuckling as he motioned at the boy to stand. Ever proud, his youngest was; too proud to admit that there were things he couldn't learn quickly enough to satisfy his own ego.To be frank, it was a feeling that he was rather familiar with. Paz turned to his father, smiling as he tried his best to escape continuing the so-called _ dance lessons _ . Torture sessions, he thought, were much more appropriate for the occasion.

  
  


"Mother and Sister are sparring." He turned to the door, where from outside the sound of training blades could be heard hitting against each other. Rusol glances at the door for a moment, greeted by the greens and yellows of the flowery meadow. He turns back to look at his smiling and hopeful son.

  
  


"Let's head outside Father. We should join them." Paz suggested, putting on his most charming and cheerful smile. One that had never failed to win over the hearts of the other younglings. Though Paz should've always known that the Vizsla royal was not just any other Mandalorian on the street. A lesson learned as the boy squeaked, his father giving him a sharp twist to the ears.

  
  


"Coward, boy. Need I remind you that you inherited that Vizsla charm from _ me  _ ad'ika." And it was very unlike Paz to sulk and pout, but he did it anyway.

His father, picking up on his son's obvious frustration, sighed again. Ruffling waves of bright blonde hair, he spoke.

  
  
  


"Come. We've been here long enough." 

  
  


The boy lighted up like a Christmas tree immediately, sulk forgotten as he rushed out to the door. Rusol followed behind his eager son, stepping out onto the meadow outside, treading lightly as to not crunch the delicate fauna under his heavy boots. Paz on the other hand, paid no heed as he stomped his way to a sparring Aesyara and Anarn, the duo trading blows under the shade of a lazy, yellowish purple willow tree.

  
  


"Mother, we've come to join you!" Paz remarked breathlessly. The Vizsla matriarch greeted her son with a slight nod of her head. Anarn on the other hand, was looking decidedly displeased at her brother's appearance.

  
  


"Mother and _ I  _ are sparring. You should be off dancing with Father." She crossed her arms, hand still holding onto a viroblade. Paz immediately glared at her, Anarn happily glaring back in return. Rusol arrived just in time to help his wife break up both children before fists were inevitably going to be involved.

  
  


" _ Riduur _ , I thought you would be teaching our son _ inside  _ the villa today." Aesyara remarked calmly, holding back a snarling and kicking Anarn who tried to kick Paz's face. Paz swiped at her, only to have his arm grabbed by his father's hand, of whom had no qualms keeping his hold on the young boy.

  
  


"And that has proven rather ineffective."

  
  


Aesyara quickly disengaged the blade in her daughter's hand before she managed to poke out her brother's eyes.

  
  


"I have decided to try for a change of scenery."

  
  


"Splendid idea Father." Anarn cut in, still being held back in their Mother's hold. "I vouch for the opposite side of the moon?" Paz almost managed to swing his leg close enough to jab her thigh, almost.

  
  


"Stop goading your brother Anarn." Aesyara warned.

  
  
  


"That goes for you too Paz. Both of you, behave."

  
  
  


Both children halted at the sound of their Mother's commanding voice, slowly putting away their fists and relenting with a concurrent and dull, "Yes Mother." Rusol finally released his hold on his now placated son, as did Aesyara on their eldest daughter.

  
  


"We will both return before the evening." Rusol remarked, still keeping a wary eye on both of their children, out of experience. Thankfully, both were looking at anywhere but each other. Aesyara looked more than grateful at her husband's announcement.

  
  


"I wish you all the success then my husband." 

  
  


The both of them rested their helmets together in a chaste Keldabe kiss before the both of them parted and went back to their own quarries. Both children parted ways to join their respective parents, though not before Anarn could turn back and blow a raspberry at Paz. Paz kindly returned the gesture with a considerably more amount of flair, before trailing after their father.

  
  


[]

  
  
  
  
  


“Hey Sax!”

  
  


The woman in question turned to see a purple armored Mandalorian walking towards her. She nodded her head in greeting. Faraj took the seat beside her by the drinks bar quickly before someone else could manage the feat. The female infantryman felt curious at her seeming insistence to be in her company.

“Faraj. It’s been a while.” She nodded in reply.

“Care for a drink?” The woman nodded again, not peeping a word. It seems like her quiet nature had not abandoned her, even after all these years. It was no wonder why she got along well with another of a similar deposition; Din and Faraj had always been close since childhood. Sax wondered where the other Mandalorian was as the bar droid handed over their drinks, complete with transparent straws for convenience.

  
  


“Have you seen Din?”  _ Speak of the devil. _

  
  


“I can’t say I have.” She replied, sipping on her cider. She tried not to visibly cringe at it’s sweetness, but the damn droid wouldn’t serve any heavy alcoholic drinks till training hours were over and the younger trainees would all return home. Faraj hadn’t even touched hers. Sax decided to put away the offensive drink for a moment to engage further in the conversation with the otherwise usually reserved Beta.

“He left you hanging?”

  
  


Faraj held the glass in her hands, swirling the liquid contents inside with the straw. “Third time this week now. And that's just  _ this _ week.” She didn’t sound angry, however.

“It doesn’t sound like Djarin to just ghost you like that.”

“No, it isn’t like him at all to ghost on _ anyone _ .”

Sax gave no affirmation concerning that matter. She didn’t know the male Omega well enough to make such a confident claim. Though she was sure of what she said next in reply.

“Not just anyone. I just don’t believe that he would do that to you.”

Faraj laughed softly, finally taking a pensive sip of her drink, before pushing it an arm’s length away. The woman really didn’t like to drink.

“Djarin doesn't play favourites, Sax.” She gave an unbelieving huff.

“I think you’re beyond just another one of his favourites, Faraj.”

The shorter woman burst into laughter, though still mindful of her restraint and went quietly about it.

“Oh please, you don’t still believe those childhood rumours do you?” Sax shrugged.

“The evidence points to the contrary.”

Faraj scoffed. “If anyone had actually paid attention, they would find that the evidence points to the complete _ opposite _ .”

  
  


“You’ve made me curious now,” Sax remarked, leaning closer to the woman. “Who is this ‘complete opposite’ that you so claim?” The woman smiled beneath her purple helm, it seemed like it wasn’t only Din himself who was too blind to recognize the truth. She thought about apologizing to him for the all the times she had called him  _ blind as a Miraluka _ . Providing that she could actually find him, of course.

  
  


“I’m not the type to tattletail Sax.”

  
  


Faraj could hear the woman giving an irritated sigh as she went about finally finishing her drink. It was a few moments before Sax finally spoke again, empty glass held aloft in her hand.

  
  
  
  


“By the way,” A pause, as shouts erupted from somewhere close to the vicinity.

“Have you seen Paz?”

  
  
  


******

  
  
  
  
  


It wasn’t the first time since the last few weeks that Din had come to find himself trapped between Paz and the blaster rack behind the locker rooms.

  
  


The day had been going on as per usual. Din had just been returning from the arena after another enlightening spar with Faraj, in which he had been victorious over his old friend. 

Their tutor, upon seeing his success, had granted him his first solo mission in the Outer Rims. Faraj had suggested that they had a drink later to celebrate his success. He had planned to make good on that offer.

  
  


When Paz had him pressed between his bulk and the hard steel of the blaster rack however, his inhibitions disintegrated completely.

  
  


The Alpha had wasted no time in peeling off his helmet to press a searing kiss against his lips. Din moaned, wanton in response pulled him closer; desperate for more physical contact. Paz obliges, more than willing to give in to the desires of the writhing man pressed against him. He hefted Din’s thighs over his, pushing him further against the blaster rack as he bit at plump lips. Din, unheeding of his body’s dangerously and rapidly rising temperature, opened his lips to invite Paz in. Their tongues danced sloppily against each other, both of their saliva running down Din’s chin. Paz’s taste was heady, all mint and steel gunpowder mixed with that irresistible Alpha pheromones; Mother Nature’s will incarnate. The Omega in him preened, wanting so much it felt as if he would burst. He felt his lungs burn and his breaths coming short and Paz realizing it and pulling away from him. He whined pathetically, trying to pull him back. Paz was quick to put his hand over his mouth as Din started to hyperventilate.

“Breathe, love.”

Paz’s hand clamped over his mouth certainly helped, his breaths reaching a crescendo before finally giving out in a large gasp. Paz pulled his hand away immediately,moving away to give Din more breathing room. He gradually regained his breath, though the fever-like heat was slow to recede. Paz ran a gentle hand over his back to soothe him, but Din pushed him away weakly, embarrassed. Paz gazed at him for a moment.

“Your reactions were worse than I remember last.” Paz was careful with his words, knowing that the subject of Din’s biology was a sensitive one. It was commonplace for Omegas to have more extreme bodily reactions, an observed phenomenon that was not new knowledge to anyone in particular. However, male Omegas were known to have fluctuating and often inconsistent bodily reactions compared to the steady and well-developed physiology of a female Omega. Hence, the reason why the group was considered less desirable as their chances at producing offspring were low. More often than not, those who did conceive would die of complications during childbirth.

  
  


It was then that the thought struck him.

  
  


“Din,” He started, breathing in Din’s scent floating around them. The distinctive smell of cherry and cinnamon registered in his senses, a scent that he had come to know very well over the past month. This time, however, it felt staler. Suppressed and less heady.

He grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders.

“You’re on heat suppressants aren’t you?”

Din wanted to deny it but even with the helmet on, Din could tell that Paz was less than pleased. In truth, the man was radiating worry, with that tinge of anger creeping on the edge of his emotions. No, he was  _ not _ pleased. He was attuned enough with the Alpha’s emotions to know that if he found the suppressants he stuffed in his belt pouch, he would never live to see another pill again.

“It was only a small dose.” Din tried.

Paz audibly sighed. He pulled Din back into his embrace, thumb caressing his cheek. The man’s skin was still a little bit too warm.

“It’s not good to suppress your heat, love.” Din said nothing, curling closer into Paz’s bulk. Paz shifted, trying to find a position which could hold them both comfortably in the tight space. He looked down at the man pressed against him.

“It could alter your health, irrecoverably”.

“I couldn’t come in the throes of a full heat could I?” Din could tell from Paz’s replying silence that that was not a sufficient answer. 

“Besides, if I hadn’t taken them I would’ve missed my first solo assignment.” Din added, laying his head on the blue armored chest. He grabbed Paz’s hand and curled it around himself. The latter let him.

“And flunk it because you didn’t pay heed to your health?” He huffed, laying his head on Din’s.

“And here I thought I was the incompetent one in this relationship.”

Din smiled, remembering that particular conversation a few weeks ago. They had almost been caught necking each other- _ Tyga luckily chose to use the urinal instead  _ \- to death during break time. It was not one of Paz’s brighter ideas, to engage in a full on make out session in the restrooms during break hours. And honestly, it wasn’t the best decision that Din had made either.

“With everything that has happened recently, I say that statement still stands.”

Paz scoffed. “Not if you continue to be stubborn and disregard your health.”

Din didn’t reply, too busy basking in the light of Paz affection that was so wonderfully distracting. Even the prospect of his currently ongoing and self-medicated heat didn’t manage to stir him from his blissful stupor.

“Din.” Paz chided, sounding distraught.

Din sighed. Finally lifting his head from the man’s chest to properly look at him.

“Yes, love?” Din replied, putting on all his Omegian charm to coerce the Alpha before him. Leaning himself against him and nuzzling his neck, mindful to rub his scent on his skin. His father would’ve laughed to see his son so fully leaning into the so called stereotypical Omegian behaviour that he had proclaimed to  _ despise. _

_ You're such a hypocrite son. _

With the young and virulent Alpha before him, the Omega couldn’t care less at the moment, and Len Djarin wasn't here to comment either. Nor was Din himself, trapped by the bindings of Mother Nature and biology.

Paz didn’t budge however. He held Din’s face firmly in his hands, staring daggers at him through the visor of his helmet.

“You must promise not to take those suppressants anymore. The effect on your health is too much of a risk.”

Din frowned. “Paz…”

He didn’t back down.

“ _ Gedet'ye, ner sarad. _ ” He continued, pressing Din’s palm against his naked cheek. He kisses his gloved fingers.

“Do not leave me in lonesome existence.”

Din was stunned silent by that unexpected proclamation. It was a few seconds before he huffed out an unbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. Paz was still looking hopefully at him, hand still held against his lips. Both were silent for a long while, willing the other to relent first. Eventually, it was Din who let out the first sound that broke the silence, his breath shaking the layer of dust on the steel racks.

“You smooth talker.”

He half-hissed, half-whispered. Paz grinned, baring white teeth as he bends down for a kiss. This time however, it was Din who was quick to put his hands over his mouth, startling the larger male and halting him in his tracks.

“You didn’t think I would just give in to your demands like a good little Omega did you?”

Paz muffled a sound from behind Din’s palm.

“If I promise you this, then you’ll have to promise me something in return too.”

Paz makes another muffled sound behind his gloved palm.

_ I’ll take that as a yes. _

“No more of these spontaneous…..” Din struggled to find the correct word. “ _ -meetings _ in bathrooms and in between blaster racks.” Paz made a flurry of noises behind his hand and Din proceeded to remove it.

“ _-ppose_ you come to my house do you?”

He shrugged, feeling particularly spoilt as he climbed into Paz’s lap again.

“After all, if I don’t take my suppressants, I can’t be here everyday for you to assault me.”

Paz let out an incredulous laugh. “Din Djarin,  _ love of my life _ , being able to make out with you is not an excuse for you to take suppressants.” The smaller man pouted as Paz finally made good on that kiss earlier. Their lips pressed softly against each other and Din let out a happy and satisfied hum, hands wrapping around Paz’s neck. Paz continued to rock them as they parted, lips still just a hair’s breadth away from each other’s.

“Besides,” Paz whispered, one long digit tracing the Cupid’s dip curving over pink lips. “ It’s not like you didn’t want me to ‘assault’ you either.” Din gave an offended pinch to his cheek. The man let out a mock  _ owwwww. _

“Knowing your brutish Alpha tendencies, you would have done it regardless of my enjoyment.”

Paz hefted the man closer to him, grinning like a monstrous Nexu.

“Aw love, you only had to  _ ask _ .”

Din gave the man’s helmet a well deserved slap and Paz chuckled back good-naturedly. They kissed again, though it was chaste as others had started to come into the locker rooms. Paz slid his helmet back over his lips, Din followed, ready to leave before being spotted.

“What do you plan to do?” Din asked. Paz was thoughtful for a moment

“How long do you have before your next mission?” 

“A week.” Paz smiled beneath his helmet.

“Give me till then, I’ll contact you when I think of something.” 

  
  


He engulfed Din in a quick hug before the both of them finally parted ways for good. As soon as he emerged into public view, he was spotted and joined by others quickly, laughing and chatting as they headed towards their shared destination, wherever that was. Din never lingered long or close enough to know.

  
  


Instead, Din headed towards his locker alone, prepared to file in an early leave and go home to ride out the rest of his dreaded heat, without medication. The thought had his mood drop drastically. As he reached into his belt pouch to take out the suppressants and place them securely into his locker, he found it empty. Devoid of the suppressants that the doctor had prescribed him two weeks ago, with no small amount of persuasion from his part. The prescription had been costly and he felt frustratingly all over himself for any sign of the damned thing. Paz’s last act before they parted ways came to his mind and he cursed under his breath as the light finally shone on the man’s true motives.

  
  


“ _ Ori’buyce kih’kovid. _ ”

[]

Paz woke up spectacularly late the next morning.

His sleep had been an exceptionally good one, filled with floating colours and pleasant dreams that were mostly about a certain Omega. So pleasant in fact that when he finally woke up it was already nearing noon.

He immediately jumped off the bed, putting on his armor in a flurry which had been strewn across the floor in a messy pile. His Mother would have his head if she saw this mess; if she didn’t manage to somehow glare him to death when she sees him. His chestplate a bit lopsided, he quickly rushed out to the hallway. Willing the elevator to go faster as it made its languid descent down to the main floor. The doors couldn’t open fast enough and Paz squeezed his bulk through it like an impatient child. A service droid could be seen walking down the hall. It greeted him in kind as he emerged from the elevator doors, looking quite the mess. The droid didn't comment on his appearance though, Paz naturally assumed that it must not belong to his Mother’s personal horde of service droids.

“Good morning Master Paz.”

The child in him would like to object and say that it’s already noon, but he was already really,  _ really _ late.  _ “Priorities, Paz.” He could hear Anarn chiding. _

“Is my family gathered at the dining hall?”

“No sir. My Lords and Ladies are gathered in the West portrait room.”

“The family portrait room?” Paz exclaimed, his stomach growling all of the sudden as if to remind him that he hadn’t eaten for the last twelve hours. He was now pretty sure that his Mother must be punishing him if she decided for them to delay lunch.

“What about lunch?” He asked lamely.

“My Lady Anarn and Xiba are having their portrait done. My Lady Aesyara has requested the afternoon banquet to be served in the adjacent drawing room.”

“Thanks.” He muttered dejectedly. The droid gave a firm nod and continued on its way down the hall. He was really in for it this time. He had completely forgotten about the portrait ceremony, and he wasn’t even dressed in the correct attire. It was far beyond too late to call upon a droid to clean and patch up his beskar cloak and tunics. These things were usually done a week before it was required, arrangements his Mother had often seen to when he was still young.

But he wasn’t very much young any longer, and he dragged himself as slowly as he could to the room down the hall.

The doors slid open to the familiar interior of the large room as he approached. It was the most decorated room in the entire estate, with large and grand portraits of past Vizsla rulers and extended families hanging on its walls. Few were allowed to enter, as a Mandalorian’s true face was sacred and reserved only for close family. Only a handful of selected droids and others were allowed in, most notably the trusted royal artists. Paz realized that some of their own family portraits had been moved to make room for the new one, as it had always been done when a new pair of rulers or family members were introduced to the House. Their parents’ portrait remained hanging on the centre of the wall as they were still the leaders of the clan.

“Good morning my son.” Paz was startled to attention by his Mother’s voice. The Lady was dressed in a fabulous gown, with silver-dyed beskar sewn into the folds of red silk and jewels adorning the entirety of her frame. “Mother,” Paz started, trying for an explanation. The woman held out her hand in front of her however, and Paz was forced to be silent.

“I fear that we have found ourselves in this situation far too often Paz.” He chuckled at his Mother’s words, trying for a disarming smile. But his Mother had never been one for flattery, nor amused when she narrowed her blue eyes at him. The woman let out a long suffering sigh before she began to speak again.

“Paz, there’s only so many years left for me to lambaste you about these things.” Paz wanted to reply but Aesyara’s hand held firm in the air. “You are the heir to House Vizsla my son, and from now on,” She waved a finger at his helmet. “You will act like one.” Recognizing that his Mother had meant that as a threat, he gulped.

“And that begins with you dressed in  _ proper _ attire.” She continued, flecking off some unseen dust off his blue ploudron. His mother’s own personal service droid emerged from the other end of the room, holding open the door that led to the older portrait rooms.

“Sherry, please dress my son in some presentable clothes.” His mother’s affectionately named personal droid nodded. “Of course my Lady.”

Paz quickly cut in. “I didn’t call for-”

“-your tunics to be cleaned and mended? I am glad my distrust in your memory was not misplaced my son.” Paz grinned underneath his helmet. His Mother’s efficiency seemed to know no bounds. “Have I ever told you how fantastic you are Mother?” He felt her warm palm as she patted him on the cheek.

“Don’t start now Paz.”

Paz watched her disappear into the next room before going himself. Sherry had his cloak and tunic arranged neatly on a stand, and stood ready to help him put away the bits and pieces of his Beskar armor as he undressed himself.

“Sherry?”

“Yes Master Paz?”

“Can you check if there’s any pills in my belt pouches?” The droid went about doing this, before pulling out a blister tab of pink pills.

“Is this the aforementioned pills sir?”

“Yes, dispose of it later on.” The droid nodded, putting away the pills with the rest of his folded garments. He was busy helping himself into his tunic as the droid help smoothened out the creases and adjusted the collar. Then, the droid had fussed about his belt being too loose, an imperfection that it insists need to be corrected. Paz could only hold back his grunts as the droid pulled at the thing until it was fitted snugly around his waist, before securing it safely. He stood still as Sherry was busy placing the white heavy cloak on him, distracting himself by staring at the portraits on the wall. The pictures looked as if they had just been painted yesterday, when the truth was that some of the people on them had died decades ago. He recalled Anarn’s description of their great Grandmother’s terrifying looks as he gazed at her portrait; her hand on the shoulder of her son as her infant daughter was held in her lap, red gown sprawled across the painting as his great Grandfather stood behind them. She was beautiful, as all female Omegas were; and nothing of her painted face helped Paz imagine what became of it when time had finally withered away her beauty.

Sherry pulled out a standing mirror in front of him, producing a brush as the droid combed his hair accordingly. He frowned at his own reflection.

“I look like those overdressed senators from the Republic.”

“Yes sir. You look very grand indeed.” His frown deepened.

“No, Sherry. I mean I look dumb.”

The droid declined to grace his answer with a reply. Instead, it occupied itself with that stubborn stray of hair that didn’t stay in place. Finally combing it back, the droid proceeded to place itself beside the standing mirror.

“My Lady Aesyara requests your presence in the adjacent drawing room.” Paz was glumly looking at his reflection in the mirror. “ And I shall dispose of those pills as requested, Master Paz.”

The old droid proceeded to take the standing mirror and his armor away. Paz remained rooted on the spot for a little while longer, thoughts lingering on that blister tab of pills. Taking them away had been one thing, but throwing it away? He knew that Din must’ve given up a lot of credits to get hold of it. Suddenly, disposing of it felt like a selfish and inconsiderate decision. 

“Sherry?”

“Yes Master Paz?”

“On second thought, just put those pills away in my room.”

The droid nodded before walking away with the mirror and his armor, which he looked longingly at before the droid finally exited the room. Realizing there is no escape, he mustered up his _ almost _ non-existent patience for parties and ceremonies and entered into the drawing room. 

Only the extended members of the royal family were invited to the ceremony, as predicted. All the women were dressed in red gowns of different designs, whereas the men were dressed in similar white tunics and gold cloaks; if only with cloaks of differing lengths denoting their status in the family hierarchy. The only thing missing in the room was the overbearing presence of the Elders. They must have decided not to attend; the veiled insult did not go over his head.

“My son.” All attention in the room was diverted to him as his Mother embraced him with a warm smile on her face, acting as if she had not just seen him earlier. Paz wisely went along with it.

“Mother.”

“Glad you could finally join us. Your uncle is very keen to see you.” Her pleasant smile became tight-lipped for a moment, her grip on his shoulders tightening minutely. With no other choice, he obediently went to find his Father who was engaged in conversation with his brother. He had last seen Akkomuz Vizsla when he was a child, which was no surprise as the man was a busy general himself.

“Paz, so good to see you again.” The man put a hand on his cloaked shoulder, a glass in the other. Paz smiled back, mood lifting a little. “ I apologize for my constant absence all this past few years.”

“I understand Uncle. Besides,” He added, taking a glass of spiced blue vodka from a passing serving droid. “I’m sure it was much more worthy of your attention.” Akkomuz laughed while Rusol gave a restrained but still, very amused smile.

“I see he has inherited much of your youthful spunk.”

“Much to the ire of my wife.” Paz was about to reply when Anarn and Xiba entered the room. All who were present clapped, judging eyes following the newcomer to the Clan; faces stone cold and honestly, unwelcoming. It didn’t take a genius to know that most of the royal family did not approve of this union. Which made Paz all the more grateful that Akkomuz was not one of them; the man was genuinely smiling, unlike the others. Paz was quick to approach and greet Xiba, hoping to brighten her spirits a little. 

“My Lady.” 

“Paz,” The small woman sighed, relieved under the cast of her red veil. “Am I glad to see you.” 

“You look absolutely radiant in that gown.” Paz tried for pleasantries, as was commonplace in these gatherings. Xiba wasn’t having it though, stopping him before he could press a kiss against her gloved hands.

“Not you too Paz. I think I’ve had enough shallow compliments about my appearance.” Paz chuckled softly so as to not let others hear. “I meant it though.” Xiba smiled wryly.

“I know you do, it’s just….I feel like I'm completely out of my league.” Her eyes roved over her red gown. “I never imagined myself affording much less wearing all...this.” He had a distinct feeling that she was looking at her jeweled bracelet on her wrist as she said that.

“You are a Lady of the House, it’s only fitting that you show the trappings of such.”

“But alas,” Her smile dropped, her expression suddenly wistful under the veil. “I’m not worthy of being one.” Paz was quick to object.

“Don’t bother with the others, Xiba. If my sister believes you worthy, then you are.”

She looked stunned for a moment by his unwavering declaration, before finally smiling bashfully, that same smile she bore that day when he had first seen her.

“Thank you Paz. I am honored to be a part of your family.” Paz was finally able to press that belated kiss on her hand. It was about time to greet Xiba’s parents with his own, and the portrait ceremony could begin. Then, much later on he would fall exhausted into his own bed and dream those oh so pleasant dreams. 

  
  
  


“As am I, my Lady Xiba.”

[]

  
  
  


Din could not put in words, the utter embarrassment and indignity his 17 year old self had felt when he told his father, in these specifics words:

  
  


“I need breast paddings.”

  
  


Len Djarin was, for his part, less calm and flustered than his teenage son who had just recently gone into his first, very much belated heat. Len was very worried over it, and he had already made up his mind he would _ -drag if need be- _ take him to the doctor’s after his heat blows over. For now, he had only his knowledge gathered from experience to guide his son through the ordeal.

Today had been the third day, and it was the first time Din had told him of this particular trouble. In fact, it was the only time he had requested anything at all since he stumbled home from his spar with Paz and sequestered himself in his room. Only opening the door to thank him hastily and shuffle away the water and food that Len brought to him. He could briefly smell the heady Omega pheromones that were distinct to each Omega each time the door was opened just the slightest, however Din never let him have a chance to probably gauge it. His son obviously did not want his father to see him in his current state, when he so obviously needed it.

_ Stubborn, prideful boy, the man sighed. _

“You’re only now lactating?” Din cringed at the word. Len pushed on despite his son’s discomfort. The man crossed his arms. “I find that hard to believe Din.”

“ _ Buir- _ ” Din pleaded, but Len was having none of it.

“You should’ve told me Din. I could have given them to you earlier, instead you choose to isolate yourself out of shame.” Len was going to continue to berate his son, if not for his sweat ridden forehead and weariness emanating from him in waves of distress. His heart softened with the onslaught of painful love that often accompanied any thought concerning Din.

“Din.. _ ner ad’ika _ ,” 

“You know I love you right?” Din nodded, guilt suddenly rising as a lump in his throat. He hated how easily he had lost control over his emotions. His father’s blessedly cool hand combed sweat-ridden strands of hair away from his forehead. “And that means I worry over and want to help you.”

“But how can I do that if you keep shutting me out, Din?” That lump in his throat threatened to spill tears from his bloodshot eyes. Len spoke, softly this time. Mindful of the impact of his words and the sensitiveness of the subject.

“There is nothing shameful about our nature Din. It is only meant to be, and that is all there is to it.” The gentleness of his father’s familiar voice washed over him, comforting. He was tired, making him lean into his father’s slightly larger bulk- _ Omegas were never meant to be large, always meant to be lithe and submissive, even if they were by some cruel trick of fate, male- _ let him curl his arms around him, rubbing circles on his back like when he was sick. Let it soothe the roiling of his cramping stomach, that unbearable pain and emptiness between his legs; of his organs tearing itself apart so that they could be made anew. He let the tears finally slip and sobbed, the wracking pain so wholly encompassing and he cursed at whatever higher powers that must regard it as nothing more than a fanciful joke.

Len was silent for the remainder of his miserable sobs, hand soothing over his back as he let him ride it out. When his sobs had finally quietened to mere shivering, Len finally let him go, still mindful to hold him at his shoulders to steady him.

“I’ll bring those paddings to you, as well as your lunch.”

Len’s eyes widened just a fraction to give him an almost-glare to emphasize his next words.

_ “And leave the door open this time.” _

******

  
  
  


Din recalled that particular memory as he stood on the bus.

He would admit now that his teenage self had acted immaturely at the time, letting himself be put completely at the mercy of his own inexperience and hormones. His actions were probably more embarrassing than his request. Len must’ve at least been Force sensitive if he was able to deal with his younger self with such patience and understanding, or at least have a higher Midichlorian count than usual. 

The bus screeched to a sudden halt in midair as a speeder zoomed past it without warning, all the standing occupants lurching forward from the momentum. The Muun standing beside him knocked into him, dropping his datpad onto the floor as he swore in some language he didn’t recognize. Din grunted, his swollen chest throbbing in protest from the impact; the tight padding over it certainly not elevating the situation. The Yuzzum bus driver was yelling a string of profanities furiously. At the same time, he could feel a wetness spreading over his chest.

_ Damn you Paz Vizsla. _

He was quick to get off the bus once it arrived at his stop. Eager to go back and change into less….sodden undergarments. His father looked like he was about to leave when he entered the house.

“Din, I’m going to be gone for a few months.”

That stopped him in his tracks.

“A few months? Just for an outpost mission?”

“Not just an outpost mission,” Len explained. “A covert one.”

“I never took you for a spy.” The man put on his helmet, the white Beskar looking polished. Din figured he must’ve just had taken it to the forge in preparation for the assignment.

“You forget son, I once trained as a light infantryman.” Len approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle and soft.

“We cannot contact each other at all during the duration of the mission. So this may be the last time we can see each other.”

Din cocked his eyebrow beneath his helmet.

“You speak as if we’ll never see each other again.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Len’s tone suddenly took on a somber note. Din was about to say something when the man chuckled, patting him on the shoulders disarmingly. Din didn’t share in his laughter however. Jokes about possible death were certainly not comedic and worry gripped him as sudden as Len’s laugh.

“Father, I-” He was cut off when Len pulled him into a crushing embrace with a strength that would surprise most. Whatever Din was going to say, it died on his tongue.

“I’m truly honored to be your father. Whatever you do from now on, know that I will always be proud of you Din.”

Those words sounded ominous, and did nothing to curb the growing worry in him. Then Len pulled away, patting him on the shoulders again as he bade farewell.

“ _ Akay vi urcir tug'yc, ner ad _ .” With that, he left; leaving Din to watch the door slide close behind him.

  
  


Later, when Len had already left for a good few hours, Din came back to the living room again. This time out of his armor and wearing more comfortable garments in preparation for the night. He unplugged his datapad from its charging station and scrolled through his mail. There was an encrypted message with an attachment that detailed the specifics of his assignment, and he spent a good portion of the evening reading through it. He found it hard to focus however, when his father’s last words lingered in his mind. Frustrated, he continued to scroll through his mail to find something else to read. The bulk of it were mostly promotions and the Coruscant Newsfeed, he sighed and continued scrolling.

_ Message received: 0045 [Galactic Standard Time] _

_ Sender: Paz Vizsla _

His eyes widened in interest.

_ It has been a few days since I last saw you. I apologize for not contacting you earlier, and for taking away your pills. I just had to be sure. Don’t worry though, I didn’t throw them away. _

Din rolled his eyes before continuing to read.

_ As you have stayed true to your promise, I write to you now to make good on mine. After you have completed your mission, come to these coordinates: _

_ >(90,06,41)-[ _ _ Standard Coruscant Coordinates System _ _ ]<Change settings(?) _

_ I have a combat mission to complete as well, so I may run a little late myself. When you land, give the clearance code [2234h0]. The droid housekeeper will be there to greet you. _

_ I have missed you very much, ner sarad. I shall wait anxiously until we can be reunited again. _

_ Yours, _

_ Paz. _

“You big sap.” Din mumbled, smiling despite himself as he unconsciously reread the message again. His face illuminated by the light of the datapad in the darkness of the living room, he realized it was already night as his eyes roved over the time displayed on the edge of the screen. He still had his assignment details to go through properly again, but he decided to put it off till tomorrow morning as he plugged the datapad back to the charging station.

The house was silent as he laid on his bed. Normally, Len would’ve switched on the Holonet, letting the Coruscant News Network run in the background as he fumbled around the kitchen. And if he was lucky, his father would call him down for supper; a surprise he had highly anticipated every night when he was still a child. When the man left for his missions, hsi young self had often been sleepless with worry as well, as he currently was.

_ He’s been to a thousand missions, his mind supplied. And you worried for him every time. _

He could not deny that.

_ And he did return from every one of them very much alive. _

Perhaps he really had been overthinking and being a huge worry wart; after all Len had taken him on missions and hunts before and as far as he knew, was a resourceful man who knew the limits of his abilities. It was hard to believe that the man would make such a reckless decision if he knew the requirements of an assignment exceeded his skill set.

Feeling calmer, he rolled over to his side and closed his eyes, willing sleep to take over him.

[]

  
  


“-mind if I sit with you?”

Din looked up from his meal at Faraj.

“Sure.” The young girl nodded, sitting down and placing her lunch tray on the table.

“How was your visit?” He asked as she peeled open her carton of blue milk.

“As expected.” Din looked on as she began cutting up her slice of grey meatloaf, before thrusting her fork into it rather violently. He was pretty sure she must have dented it.

“When you are related to the rulers of a clan only by the blood of your mother, don’t expect any niceties from anyone.”

“But they invited you.” Din reasoned. “Then surely you are still part of the family?”

“Pffft, family.” She rolled her eyes.

“In the House of Eldar, your mother’s bloodline is practically worthless. So yes, I’m part of the family, but not considered one of the family.”

“That’s….different?”

“Apparently.”

  
  


“What about your father’s illness? If you are still…. _ part _ of the family surely they must be obliged to help your mother?”

“I really don’t know, Din.” She said, sounding distressed. “But if they don’t-and let’s face it, they  _ won’t _ -my mother will have to go for some drastic measures.” 

He hung his head as he looked down at his own lunch, neither of them in the mood for actually eating their food. Din didn’t think he had ever heard her sounding as helpless as she was at the moment. And considering what Faraj had meant by drastic measures, this would probably be the last time she would be able to buy lunch anymore.

Then the idea struck him.

“I can help you.”

Faraj looked doubtful. “Din, you don’t have to-” She stopped mid-sentence as she watched him shuffle through his training pack, before pulling out a small box tied neatly with string. Her brown eyes widened curiously. He untied the string and pulled Faraj’s lunch tray towards him, pouring out its contents onto the tray beside the sad looking meatloaf still stuck with a fork. 

Faraj stared dumbly at the delicate cream cakes and sandwiches.

“Where did you get all this?”

“I didn’t. I could never afford these kinds of things.” He watched as Faraj picked up a berry scone with a velvet piece of chocolate on top of it. She seemed to like it when she took a small bite.

“They served things like these during the Eldar banquet. And I'm certain you weren’t present.” She said before eying him suspiciously. He felt beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead as she leaned in closer over the lunch table. It wouldn’t take much for her to put two and two together, and he could see the beginnings of a smile creeping up on her face, one she was trying hard to suppress.

“Who actually gave you these?”

He rolled his eyes and sighed, hanging his head low to avoid looking at her smug grin.

“Do you have to ask?”

He flinched as she let out a burst of laughter, so usually quiet and reserved. 

“When did it all start in the first place?” She pushed on, when she finally stopped herself from laughing. “I...when I...that time I got sick.” Faraj broke a piece of shortbread apart and handed him a half before speaking again.

“That time you were absent for a week?” Din nodded, chewing on his piece. Faraj looked like she was about to burst into laughter again.

“He sent boxes of cakes to your home when you were sick?”

“No! Of course not.” He spluttered, face burning in embarrassment. “ He just...started doing it after I came back.” The young girl shook her head, smiling wildly as she stared at the variety of petite tarts laid before her.

“I don’t believe it. Paz Vizsla, heir of _ Clan Vizsla _ , the most powerful and wealthy House in Mandalore, has been besotted by you and is giving you boxes of  _ sweets _ .”

He flushed redder, if that was even possible. “He is not besotted by me.”

“Everyone says he just pities me.” Faraj scoffed, rolling her eyes as she did.

“Oh please, that smug shit? He wouldn’t even bat an eye if he just pitied you.”

She plucked out the fork from the sliced meatloaf and unsurprisingly, it was dented. She ignored it, blatantly focusing on the aesthetically pleasing cakes and sandwiches over the piece of grey meatloaf still on the lunch tray. She clapped both of her hands together.

“Though I’m certainly not going to complain about it.”

It was Din’s turn to roll his eyes.

[]

  
  
  


Paz grunted under his helmet as a splash of rainwater blew into the trench.

It has been a miserable few days on D’Qar’s moon. The moon itself was more prone to wet weather then the planet it revolved around, and it rained almost everyday. Which meant it’s marshlands and rivers would spill onto land and turn them into landfills of mud and breeding grounds for mosquitos and bugs. Yesterday’s assault had been brutal; they were unable to escape the swallowing mud and were caught in a Seperatist minefield. They had still managed to pull through however, holding the line and digging into defensive positions around the refugee camp.

Paz was busy shaking and hitting the portable lamp back to life when Sax climbed down into the trench, handing him his rations before crouching down beside him. He graciously accepted it, wiping off bugs and mud from his standard steel thermos before turning it over to Sax. She turned away to take a healthy swig before giving it back.

“I did not expect Jogan gin to be in there.”

“It serves its function.” Pax answered, taking the thermos back. “Least alcohol percentage, keeps you awake.” Sax didn’t say anything as she moved to crouch against the makeshift macro-binoculars camouflaged with mud and leaves.

“How’s Rarr?”

“Broken ankles and a concussion.” Sax shrugged. “He’ll live.” Paz scooted his bulk over to the binoculars to take a look. The huge trees growing over the marshlands littered the entire line of sight. He groaned his frustration.

“This entire mission just radiates  _ suspicious. _ ” Sax swatted at a yellow bug hovering over them. “I don’t know why they should be worried by a displaced refugee vessel.”

“They were displaced by a Seperatist mining plant in Republic space.” She replied, quoting the exact words from the briefing a few days ago.

“The Senate cares not for the wellbeing of displaced refugees, Sax” Paz rebuked. “Where do you think the Separatists get the manpower to work those mines?”

Sax sighed wearily. “I wish you didn’t insist on bringing this up.”

Paz on the other hand, waited patiently for her answer.

“There’s a Clawdite spy amongst them, one with very valuable information.” She begrudgingly relented. He frowned beneath his helmet.

“Why was this not mentioned in the briefing?”

“It  _ was _ mentioned in my platoon’s briefing by Tagaf,” She corrected. “Your platoon and Juna’s are supposed to hold position and defend the camp while we meet up with the Republic reinforcements to escort the refugees to safety.”

“That must really want that spy back.”

“So do they.” She motioned for him to look into the binoculars. He did, and saw army droids marching out of the marshlands, complete with a tank rolling down trees in front of them. 

“Shit.” Paz was quick to spring into action, as was Sax who quickly turned to fire up the rigged up communicator behind them. He was busy setting up his assault rifle on its stand as the sounds of the droid army loomed ever closer. Cursing, he reached for a grenade in his belt. Sax’s swear was cut short when the droids spotted them and started shooting, the lasers bouncing off the ground and spraying mud over them and reducing visibility.

“I thought those bastards didn’t operate at night!” Sax grunted, crawling over to the rifle. They immediately ducked down when the gun turret of the tank started firing.

_ And to think I felt lucky when given the first watch.  _

“Where are the others?! Did you contact them?” He shouted over the gunfire. A fine layer of mud had already been forming over their armor and was steadily building. He dreaded the thought of cleaning it if he managed to get through the current ordeal.

“ _ It’s the fucking middle of the night Paz! _ No one expected an attack!”

A laser fired from the tank dislodged a huge piece of mud that fell into the trench and over them, the army inching steadily and ever closer. He really hoped the gun wasn’t jammed by that. 

“I can’t get a clear shot in all this rain!” Sax exclaimed, having crawled after the gun and wiping mud off it frantically.  _ This kriffing moon had too much of it. _

He managed to pluck a mag grenade from his belt and switched it on, the sound of it’s blinking timer barely audible in the midst of rapid gunfire. He waited for the next round of tankfire and in the span of a second between its initial round of fire and the next, threw it and shouted:

_ “Grenade!” _

Sax flung herself from the rifle stand and onto the bottom of the trench as a resounding boom went off. Wasting no precious time, she jumped back to it and started shooting, Paz picking up Sax’s own gun as other Mandalorians started arriving into the trenches to join the fight.

******

Din felt a bit of relief as he finished writing his report. The difficult part of the mission was at least now behind him.

Now there's just the problem of ensuring the cargo was secured safely before he left.

A cantina in the city of Biblbousa was the meeting point with the Rodian smuggler. The Hutt Lords were the only ones with enough power in the sector to secure the cargo’s safe passage back to the Republic; cargo containing prototypes of new top secret Seperatist weapons. His contact was one of the ‘employees’ of these infamous Hutt Lords, but the question of which he was really in contact with was information that was not privy to him.

_ “It would be preferable,” His briefing officer had told him. “That both parties remain anonymous in case of any loose ends.” _

_ “The Republic would very much like their dealings with Nal Hutta to remain discreet, in case of it falling into Seperatist factions who would use it for anti-Republic propaganda.” _

The Razor Crest exited out of hyperspace after a good few minutes, and Din climbed back to the cockpit as the Rings of the famed planet came into view, with green gassy mists heavily circulating around the atmosphere of the planet. He quickly took to the pilot’s seat as the ship approached it, keeping high alert as he made his way through the thick clouds of gas of the planet’s atmosphere. Finally piercing through the gas clouds, the vibrant, seething city came into view as he was finally picked up and hailed by one of the arrival towers. He docked without much fuss, powering down the ship and exiting the ship into the city. He would assume it to be late evening here at this time zone, though the gaseous sky made it hard to know. There was a parade of some sort taking place in the main bazaar; Din caught a brief glimpse of what he assumed was a Hutt Lord being carried by slaves through the street as the crowd parted ways to let them through. The huge slug gazed at the crowd with large slitted eyes, the bulbous weight of its body resting on bright yellow cushions.

Din made his way to the cantina located in the main hub of the city. The place was a magnet to the locals and the rest of the galaxy, with every possible conceivable alien species lounging at the bars and at sabacc tables. He ordered a drink and seated himself at an empty table, taking a look at the time.

The chronometer showed  _ 1855  _ hours. He was five minutes early. And he expected the contact to be punctual, as both parties concerned wanted the transaction to be over as quickly as possible and without drawing in any witnesses. He doubted his skills at haggling would prolong the meeting anyway. He had absolutely no patience for that particular part of the mission.

True to his words, the Rodian arrived at the cantina five minutes later and immediately spotted him, casually walking to the table he was seated at.

_ “My lord sends his greetings.” _ The translator in his helmet decoded the Rodese for him.

“Save it. The cargo in question is to be transported to a facility on Skako Minor. You have the coordinates, yes?”

_ “Affirmative.” _

“Then the amount agreed is 47,000.”

The Rodian leaned back in his seat.  _ “My Lord would like to propose otherwise.” _

_ “55,000.” _

He narrowed his eyes. “The previous amount is more than sufficient to make up for any inconveniences of this transport.”

_ “Which includes smuggling stolen Seperatist cargo through Seperatist space to a Republic research facility. My Lord has no interest in running a charity.” _ Din gritted his teeth.

“50,000, _ max _ .” He offered.

_ “50,000, if copies of those prototypes are given to My Lord as well.” _ He cursed inwardly, but what other choice did he have? The amount allocated to him had only that much, and it was paramount that those weapons get off this planet and to Skako Minor as quickly as possible. Seeing no other option, he reluctantly agreed.

  
  


“Very well. Docking bay A-56, wait for me there.” 

  
  


Din retrieved the cargo from the secret compartment below the bunk and pushed it down the ramp of the Crest, where the Rodian was waiting for him. The yellow alien produced a scanner and gave the cargo a quick look over. The device beeped assuringly and he slipped it back into his belt, motioning for it to be taken away. The droid was quick to secure the cargo onto the transport, stacking it under other odds and ends and driving it away just as quickly. The Rodian produced a credit tab.

_ “50,000. No more, no less, Mandalorian.” _

Din nodded, tapping on his wrist tab and transferring the credits to him. It was all over in a second.

_ “My Lord gives the Republic his regards.” _

He glared at the alien as he walked away and disappeared into the crowd.

He walked back up the ramp of the Crest and started firing up the ship. Feeling the familiar tremble of the ship’s engine thrumming to life, he steered the ship out of the planet and jumped into hyperspace immediately to avoid being tracked. He proceeded to wipe the ship’s memory before climbing down from the cockpit into the main compartment of the Crest. He picked up the datpad again, adding in the Rodian’s request into his report and making another copy of the report to the facility on Skako Minor before sending out the both of them. 

The datapad automatically self-wiped its memory and shutted down after the task was complete. He climbed back into the cockpit and into the pilot’s seat, closing his eyes and letting the ship continue to drift in hyperspace for a while.

He slipped into a light dose for a few minutes before the ship’s alarm started beeping beside him. The ship had remained in hyperspace without any set destination for more than 15 minutes and so was burning through fuel quicker than usual. Straightening in his seat, he pulled the ship out of hyperspace and randomly reappeared in some sector of deep space. He waited a few minutes for the thrusters to have sufficiently cooled down again before punching in the coordinates that Paz had given him. The ship jumped back into hyperspace again, and Din went back to dozing.

******

“Allow me to carry that for you, Master Djarin.” Din stopped short of walking down the ramp when the clean, sleek housekeeper droid put out its hands. It felt weird to be addressed like that.

“Uh, thanks.” He handed over his small pack to the droid. The droid subsequently bowed, making Din feel even more awkward. “My pleasure, Master Djarin.” He cleared his throat and held out his hand.

“Din will do just fine.”

“Of course, Master Din.” Din was about to correct the droid again, but it had started walking away. Din trailed after it as it stopped at the front door. The doors slid open as it moved to stand beside it. It took a moment before he belatedly realized it was waiting for him to enter first, which he did hurriedly. The doors closed behind him as the droid moved in front of him.

“This way, Master Din.” The droid’s feminine voice sounded.

Din followed the droid down the hallway. The house was nothing short of what Din imagined what the Vizsla’s retreat would look like; complete with red fur carpets that covered polished wood floors, and high arching windows sidelined by large curtains that showcased the scenery outside. Which mainly consisted of lazy purple willow trees and meadows of flowers and swaying yellowish grass. On the walls hung large rectangular paintings of fine art, framed sometimes by a random pottery or statue on each side. He idly wondered if the Vizsla’s estate looked anything similar, if not more elaborate and grander.

The droid held open the door at the end of the hallway and Din not stalling dumbly again this time, entered first.

“Where shall I place your pack, sir?”

Din was busy deciding which couch or armchair he should sit on. He felt like his armor would dirty every one of their cushions if he sat on them. He was mostly distracted by the curtain of water that was falling behind the swirling staircase like a waterfall, it’s water flowing into the path winding around the room. His eyes finally looked to the large red couch in the middle of the room. 

“That one will do just fine.” He sat himself on the couch carefully as the droid laid his pack against the armrest, which was quite some distance away considering the size of the enormous couch.

“Master Paz has contacted me earlier and informed me he will be here shortly. He asked you to make yourself at home in the meantime.” He nodded quietly.  _ Home? This place held so much contrast to what ‘home’ meant to him and the rest of the ordinary inhabitants of the galaxy. _

“Would you like some entertainment sir? The Holovid controller is on the table.” The droid pointed to the glass table in front of him, where the controller was placed, amongst others, in a statuette holder.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

The droid nodded wordlessly again.

“Perhaps you would prefer to enjoy the scenery sir?”

Din supposed he could do that.

“Sure.” The droid picked up one smaller controller from the holder, pressing the buttons on it. The sound of the armchairs and couches suddenly moving behind him made him jump a little, whipping his head around to see the floors beneath those couches shifting and lowering them down under the ground before reassembling again. The arching window panes proceeded to slide open, letting in the breeze and the sounds of the meadow outside. The droid pressed another button again and he panicked as the couch he was on and the table started turning around, moving and stopping just right in front of the artificial river. The droid calmly put the device back into the holder.

“Will this suffice sir?” Din turned to the droid annoyingly, half certain that it was being sarcastic. It looked like anything but such; infuriatingly formal manners were probably just part of its core programming.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I shall return with refreshments shortly.” Din was relieved to see the droid walking away. 

He turned back to look at the scenery, the sound of the indoor waterfall was a nice complementary background hum to the sound of the breeze and shuffling grass. The shrill squawks of a reptilian creature was carried in by the breeze from some distance away. There were no other buildings in sight.

He casually looked back at the table in front of him, noticing a few other things; an electronic pipe smoker, a deck of sabacc cards and a stack of holonews. Their dates were pretty old and he figured that the house must not be used that much. Feeling adventurous- _ nosey about the Vizsla’s private lives, especially Paz’s _ -he pulled open the drawer underneath the table, hopeful to find some childhood trinket that would give some clarity to what Paz did in his unseen childhood days. He was both surprised and amused to find comic issues of _ Tales of Mando’a: Epic Adventures _ hidden neatly in the drawer. Back then, it had been very popular among children, though Paz seemed to only own issues that told stories of Tarre Vizsla. He found that fact hardly surprising; Tarre Vizsla was a legendary figure in Mandalorian society and was Paz’s ancestor. It was only natural for him, as a child, to love the character in the comics who was portrayed as a brave and honorable warrior. There was also a stray picture of Paz when he was young, looking just like how he remembered first seeing him in the training arena. He smiled fondly at the picture of the boy, wondering how the young Vizsla features had changed into adulthood.

The hiss of the door sliding open sent him into a flurry as he quickly put back the picture and shut the drawer. The droid, if it noticed, didn’t say anything as he placed a tray of sandwiches and a glass of wine on the table.

“Master Paz has just informed me that he dropped out of hyperspace and will be arriving shortly.” Din nodded.

“I will go and attend to his arrival.” 

Din was left alone in the room again. However, it wasn't before long before he heard the distinct sounds of a ship’s engine and Paz’s loud footsteps coming from down the hallway. The man himself appeared into the room as the doors slid open. Din noted with horror the random pieces of mud stuck to his blue armor and was about to stop him from coming closer when Paz lunged for him. Crushing him in an embrace and twirling the both of them around. Din did manage to stop him however, when he tried to go in for a kiss.

“Not with that breath you beast.” Din pulled back Paz’s blue helmet over his mouth. The larger man pouted, still embracing a squirming Din in his hold.

“I missed you, love.”

“I know,” Din replied as he writhed, trying to escape and not get mud smudged onto his armor at the same time. “I did read your message.” He yelped as Paz grabbed hold of his waist and pulled him closer.

“Was it not romantic?” The grin in his voice was evident and Din snorted. Realizing it was futile to try and escape the man’s muddy caress, he settled for wiping pieces of mud off the armor. “You were never one for poetry, Paz Vizsla.” Paz sniggered, loosening one arm from Din’s waist to partially lift his helmet again, This time, Din didn’t stop him, even letting him do the same to his own.

“But you liked it.” Din could smell his breath from their closeness, heavy with alcohol and the cold mustiness of damp steel. He didn’t like it, but didn’t stop him from edging ever closer with his lips either. He traced a gloved finger over the stretch of lips on Paz’s face as they breathed in each other’s air. He smirked, rivalling the other’s grin.

“Perhaps. But I’ll never tell.” 

Din leaned in and pressed their lips together. He felt particularly gratified when Paz gave a surprised moan in turn, quickly turning pleased as he let Din take the lead, letting out a harsh groan as Din nipped at the bottom half of his lip. Their height disparity never made more evident when the smaller man had to stand on his tiptoes just so he could reach him. Paz decided to lift this burden from him, by quite literally lifting him up and carrying him bridal style over to the couch. Din squealed between their still joined lips as he was sweeped off his feet without warning and he peeled away to protest.

“Put me down Paz!” He demanded, heat pooling in his cheeks. The man smiled slyly.

“Ok.” He replied, unceremoniously dropping him onto the couch in tangle of limbs. The man looked up indignantly at him. Paz sniggered and climbed over, his size dwarfing the smaller man lying beneath him. Though he was conscious not to crush the man with his full weight as he leaned on his right arm, bending down to resume their kiss. He moaned as Din hands wandered around his body, inquisitive hands mapping down the length of his back. His breath hitched as gentle fingers slipped beneath to his groin, touch infuriatingly feather light. Paz thrusted forward roughly into his hands, hitching up Din’s legs and shoving them further apart as he did; Din gasped as wetness bloomed between his thighs. He pushed at Paz, and the man pulled away, confused.

“Din?”

“Nothing, I just…” Din trailed off. A cool breeze blew through the open window. “I panicked I guess.” Paz smiled softly, rubbing him soothingly over the shoulders.

“Sorry. I got impatient.”

Din shook his head. “No, it’s not your fault. I...we just need to be careful, that’s all.”

“Is your heat over?”

“Yes...but there’s still a chance of getting...you know….that.” He looked to the side as he said that, awkward. Paz chuckled.

“Brilliantly put, love.” Din glowered, ears red. He slapped Paz's hand off his shoulder and untangled his legs from Paz’s waist, sitting up on the couch. Paz maneuvered himself to allow him to do so. “Hypothetically speaking though, would you prefer a girl or a boy?” Din glared, arms crossed.

“Don’t get any ideas, Vizsla.” The man held up his hands.

“Of course not. Just curious.”

Din stared doubtfully at him through his visor, before plopping himself into Paz’s embrace again, much to the surprise of the latter who instinctively curled his arms around him.

“A boy.” Came the quiet muffled answer. “A little Alpha boy.”

Paz was caught off guard by the specificness of Din’s answer.

“Why an Alpha?”

“Because I want my offspring to have the best chance at life of course.” Din replied. “ Being a male Alpha is the surest way to get that.”

“That’s...awfully pragmatic of you.” Din gave a lazy ‘mmmmm’ in response, nuzzling into the blue armored chest. A decision he quickly regretted as some of the mud got smudged on his helmet. He recoiled with no small amount of disgust as he noticed the pieces of mud stuck to his beskar from their previous actions earlier.

“Where the kriff were you posted? Dagobah?” Din asked as he shifted away from Paz to the other side of the couch. Paz looked down and over himself.

“D’Qar’s moon was worse than that planet itself, unfortunately.”

“Well, you get no sympathy from me, or anything else for that matter until you clean yourself.”

“Take pity on a poor lover’s soul, darling.” Paz exclaimed melodramatically, hand clutched against his chest as if it was breaking. Din rolled his eyes, casually flicking off a piece of dried mud off the man’s blue helmet before tugging it down over his mouth. It was hard to suppress the laugh that escaped him at Paz’s sudden yelp as he did so.

“Not until you get a good shower, Paz.”

“Alright, alright.” The younger man sighed, rubbing his chin. He picked up the comm on the table and the voice of the droid answered him on the other side.

“How may I assist you, Master Paz?”

“Gather my pack on the ship and wait for me at the door.”

“Of course, Master Paz.” Paz thanked the droid and switched off the comm. Din tilted his head, confused.

“Weren’t we just talking about taking a shower?”

“Oh, don’t worry.  _ We _ will be having one.”

Both of them walked out of the room and down the hallway to the front door, Paz answering Din’s questions with only shrugs and a repeating ‘you’ll see’, which ticked at Din’s patience. Usually, it was the younger man who would act as such.

The droid was as expected, waiting for them at the door and handed over the Paz’s pack to him. Din followed after Paz as they walked into the meadow, casually trailing fingers over the delicate little flowers that resembled hanging little bells of varying colours; though purple-yellow seemed to be a theme among the plant life on the moon. Both of them soon entered into the woods, where a herd of deer-like animals bounded away quickly as they spotted them. Neither really spoke as they continued walking. Din didn’t find that hard to do however, with the alien and ethereal beauty of the woodland surrounding him.

“It's amazing isn't it?” Paz’s voice broke through the sounds of the forest. Din gazed at the leaves of the towering trees above them. “You won’t find plants like these in any other place. They can only grow here on the moon and nowhere else.”

“Have you tried?” Both men looked up as a reptilian creature flew over them, its sleek and colorful feathers captivating Din.

“My Mother did. But they all died as soon as they were planted on the ground.”

Silence resumed between the both of them for a while, before Din asked: “Does your family own the moon?”

“Clan Vizsla ruled Mandalore during the era of the High Republic. The planet and its moons were handed over as a gift for succeeding the Mandalorian Empire to the Republic.”

“A planet and a few moons for an empire.” Din mused. “What a fair trade.”

Paz snorted. “The Mandalorian era was long over by then, and the empire was bankrupting Mandalore anyway.”

“You mean bankrupting Clan Vizsla?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Paz gritted out: “Yes, Clan Vizsla.” Satisfied, Din went back to being silent for the rest of the walk through the woods. After walking for about 20 minutes, they exited the shadow of the trees into a clearing with a large lake in the center that looked like it was made of glass; the water tinted a see-through purple-green by some unknown property of the planet and it’s lifeforms. Wispy and transparent lilies floated on the lake’s surface like a scene from a children’s fairytale.

“The Republic could’ve built a pretty nifty resort and made a pretty profit if it didn’t hand over the planet to your family.”Paz responded with a hearty chuckle, taking Din’s hand and leading him down to the lake.

“Luckily for us, we don’t need to worry about booking hotel rooms.” Paz led him to a little cottage situated at the edge of clearing, where it sat on a small hill under a bent willow tree. There were vines creeping over the worn wooden walls, and the door had to be manually opened.

“Well this certainly isn't the summer house.” Din remarked as he entered the small room. The small space was occupied by a fireplace, an old looking stove and a table with a set of chairs, not exactly the glamorous villa they had just previously left. Paz set his pack on the chair and leaned against it.

“You know, I said the exact same thing when my Father first brought me here.”

Din raised a hidden eyebrow beneath his helm. “Your Father...built this place?”

“Not exactly.” He looked up at the wooden ceiling to the lone bulb hanging from it. “Actually, he never told me anything.”

“Perhaps your Mother knows.”

“No chance. My Father never brought anyone but me here.” Paz then turned to look at Din. “Well at least until now.” Din half-smirked, settling his smaller pack on the steel table where Paz was leaning on.

“Did your Father tell you where the bathroom was as well?”

Paz nodded and nudged his head towards the open door and the lake outside. Din was silent for a continuing second, before uttering a blunt and displeased: “No.” The latter cocked his head slightly.

“You won’t drown, if that’s what you’re worried about. The water only comes up to the shoulders.”

“I do know how to swim, Paz.” Din huffed, annoyed. Paz’s head tilted further in confusion.

“Then what’s the issue here, darling?” He watched as Din picked at his right palm. A nervous tick he’s had since they were young and often did unconsciously.

“It’s the...creatures swimming about under me.” Paz chuckled lightly, walking towards the man to rub his back. Something he knew Din had always liked, though he was loathed to admit it. “There’s hardly a Sanda aqua monster in there, sarad.”

The endearment suddenly sounded patronising to him, and he shoved him away none too gently. “Stop talking to me like a child, Vizsla.” Paz didn’t even stumble from the force of the push, but he thought better of rubbing his back again when he seemed to be in a prickly mood.

“Besides,” He continued, fingers still picking unawares at his other palm. “That colourful water may be poisonous.”

“On the contrary, the chemicals from the plants actually makes the water taste sweet.” Paz countered, though Din did not look swayed; Paz decided for a compromise.

“Well, you can just watch me then.” Din watched as Paz carried a chair with him outside the door and dragged it towards the edge of the lake. Din stiffened as he felt blood rushing to his ears at the sight of Paz undressing himself in broad daylight.

“What... _ what are you doing?! _ ”

Paz turned back to look at him, unfazed. “Taking off my armor. I can’t clean myself if I'm dressed can I?” Din averted his eyes away as Paz unclipped the last piece of armor and set it on a pile beside the chair. Temptation was hard to resist however, and Din shifted his eyes back to Paz who was busy relieving himself of his undershirt. His bare back was bared naked for all to see, boasting the long line of his spine and rippling back muscles adorned with the random criss-crossing of scars and a few still fresh cuts that he acquired from his latest combat mission. He was half-caught between feeling ashamed and horrified at himself as Paz started taking off his undergarments, draping them over the chair.

“Enjoying the view, darling?”

Din immediately flinched away, ears burning red under the helmet, Paz’s following laughter disrupting the relative calm of the meadow and scaring away the colourful reptilian creatures resting on the bough of the willow trees. Paz continued to wade naked into the lake, the cooling water lapping at his bruises and although the cuts stung as they do in water, Paz let out a relieved sigh as he reached the deepest part of the lake. It was definitely better than being caked in freezing mud. Helmet still on, he plunged beneath the water; the uplift of water lifting his helmet from his head. He remained under the water for a while, opening his eyes to the plants and small fishes swimming around before grabbing his helmet and surfacing again.

Din continued to watch Paz pedaling around from the door of the cottage, attention mostly diverted to the wet flexing muscles as the man swam, the inner Omega in him purring with satisfaction at the sight. There was an Alpha, a  _ young _ and  _ strong  _ Alpha completely butt-naked not far away from him.

Not just that, but an  _ untouched _ and  _ unmated one _ .

Din couldn’t stop the lewd moan that escaped him even if he wanted to, nor the spurt of warm slick between his legs. Shame immediately wracked him as he realised what he had just done, and he prayed to the Force that Paz did not hear him as he shied away from the door into the cover of the cottage. He shifted his pack on the chair and took a seat, trying to ignore the growing throb between his thighs and trying to calm his rapid breaths. His chest was starting to throb as well; the padding feeling more constricting and uncomfortable by the second, his rising body temperature causing him to sweat beneath the helmet. His heat was over, but it wasn’t above his biology to trigger another one if it deemed it necessary. With that thought in mind, he looked towards the door and the cooling, sparkling coloured waters of the lake.

Paz was busy going about practicing his breaststroke when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned around just in time to see Din standing wordlessly beside the chair littered with his armor and clothes. He began to remove his armor, only to stop and glare at a staring Paz through his visor, who returned to practicing his strokes while occasionally glancing over. Din’s skin was stunningly olive toned for someone who travelled to space often and wore skin-covering armor. His muscles were lithe, barely there with hidden strength as he shook off his brown undershirt to reveal his narrow waist; the black padding he wore over his chest was an enticing contrast to the light tones of his skin.

Paz was quick to avert his gawking when Din’s head whipped to the side momentarily, submerging under the water completely. When he rose to peek again, Din was already halfway wading into a lake, the water lapping at his waist as he advanced slowly and hesitantly. Paz heard the man’s breath hitch and his whole body suddenly stiffened like a rod, and figured something must’ve crawled over his legs. He waited patiently for him to come closer, standing with the water at his shoulders. 

He couldn’t quite stifle his laugh when Din stood before him with the water swirling about the bottom half of his chin. Doubtless the man must be red as a tomato under the helmet.

“Not a word, Vizsla.” He gurgled out, furious. The words sounded jumbled with the modulator of his helmet under the water. Paz felt the urge to laugh again but decided not to inflict any more damage to the poor man’s already wounded pride. He curled his arms around the man’s small waist, hefting him easily above water.

“Better?” Din didn’t answer. Paz chanced a glance down at the now wet black paddings. It clung to Din’s chest like a suckling babe.

Paz gulped at the comparison.

“Why are you still wearing those?” Din looked at him like the answer was obvious.

“You want me leaking all over the place?” Paz stuttered, feeling all the blood in his body rush down in an instant.

“Lea... _ leaking? _ ” The man squeaked, voice suddenly dry.

“Yes. I’m lactating.” Din answered matter-of-factly. 

There was a prolonged, unexpected silence from the latter for the span of a minute. Then he cleared his throat.

“That’s pretty hot actually.”

Din thought his eyes would pop off with how hard he rolled them in response. Still held above the water, he replied with a dull: “You would.” before pushing himself away. It didn’t last long however because Paz dragged him back just as quickly. 

“No, honestly.” The latter’s blank visor stared back at him. “You look lovely in those black paddings.”

Din’s answering laugh was self-deprecating and sarcastic. “I didn’t know you liked flat chests.” 

Paz starred, then suddenly shot out his hand and grabbed hold of his left breast through the black cloth. Din  _ yelled. _

_ “Gar etyc jag! mav ni!” _

Paz winced as Din’s fingers clawed at his shoulders, still cupping the tender and swollen breast in his hand; soft, heavy and full. He could feel himself twitch between his legs. Ignoring it, he turned back to the fuming and scrabbling Omega to retort nonchalantly:

“They feel more than adequate to me.”

“You- _ you grabbed me to measure it!?” _ Paz grimaced as Din kicked him, trying to scrabble away from his hold. “No,merely to prove you wrong.” Din let out something akin to snarl and a frustrated scream, giving a _ really  _ hard and powerful kick to Paz’s abdomen in an attempt to dislodge himself again. He choked back a pained grunt, fairly certain he had acquired a new bruise.

“Cyar’ika, calm down.” The larger man gritted his teeth as he felt nails tear through skin. He held on nonetheless.

“Not until you let me go you  _ bru- _ ”

Paz silenced him with a forceful press of lips, his words muffled. His hands clutched like claws at Paz’s shoulders, tightening as their contact continued. It wasn’t until he heard the stifled groan of pain from Paz that he realized what he had been doing, the fury and embarrassment that clouded his mind dissipating. His eyes softened and he let loose his death-like grip, soothing his fingers over the red indents of fingernails on the pale skin as he reprociatated the kiss that quickly turned frenzied; Paz licking his way into his mouth and pushing him against a protruding rock. Din straddled him, hooking one thigh over the muscular waist and inviting him in. Paz happily obliged, pinning him to the surface of the rock as he pressed his naked arousal between Din’s legs. They broke apart as the both of them moaned loudly. Paz bit at the bared stretch of Din’s neck and Din arched beneath him as he let out a breathless gasp. He came up to press their foreheads together, his finger rubbing the bite mark forming on Din’s neck.

“Still want me to let go?” Paz uttered, low and guttural. The vibrations echoed into him, sending a shiver up his spine. He traced fingers over Paz’s wide collarbone as the muscles stiffened under his ministrations; Din tilted his chin to look at the man before him.

“ _ Make it worthwhile then, Vizsla _ .” He hissed, defiant.

Paz growled, snatching both his arms and nailing them to the rock. Din barely had time to grunt from the impact before Paz was on him again, prying open his lips with his tongue. Din didn’t resist, dizzy as Paz’s taste spread its way into his mouth. He hooked both of his legs securely around Paz’s waist, pressing them closer. He let Paz’s cock rub against him as the man pushed him further against the rock, feeling the hardness of his cock rub against his. Throbbing and hard even in the cool water, the contrast so unbearably arousing and downright _ hot. _ His mind was screaming at him to guide that fat cock further downwards, between his thighs where his swollen lips were oozing warm slick into the water and where it was so woefully  _ empty _ . To rip off his pants and shove himself down onto that cock, let it knot him and fill him and make him  _ scream- _

He pulled away as the desperation for breath could no longer be ignored. Paz shifted his attention from his now well red-bitten lips to the rest of him; licking a long stripe from his jaw down the length of his neck, stopping at his bite mark to suck on the purple bruise. Din could do nothing but whimper and writhe in Paz’s hold. His breath hitched and caught in his throat when he felt Paz’s warm tongue against the black cloth of his paddings, blowing and kissing it alternatively. He let out an audible wail as Paz swirled his tongue against his nipple hidden beneath the tight cloth, twisting against the smooth and slippery rock as he felt the man bite and pull at it, cloth and all. Paz’s cock gave a hard throb at the sound and he tore himself away from the now spit-slicked cloth. Din let out a whine of loss.

“Will you let me touch you now, sarad?” He breathed against Din, voice cracked and husky as the smaller man under him squirmed. He resisted the urge to buck when a particular twist had him slipping momentarily between the man’s thighs, warm lips soaking through Din’s pants. The smaller man practically _howled_. Paz set his jaw and still refused to move.

“Well? Do you still want me to let go?”

_ “Nayc!...nayc...Gedet'ye….bic aarayse..ahh-” _

Paz tightened his grip and pressed even closer, driving the man further up against the rock. Din thrashed, but Paz remained as stiff as a log. He growled beside Din’s receiver:

_ “Rejorhaa'ir ni, ner sarad.” _

The reaction was almost immediate.

_ “Paz-” _ The Omega bawled. “ _ -Alpha! Touch me, please! _ ”

Paz ripped off the black cloth so violently that Din sobbed at the sensation of water splashing against his sensitive skin. The scent of something sweet filled the air and Paz gaped at the bead of white forming at the tip of a rosebud nipple, hanging precariously like a fat pearl above the water. He dived at it like a man crazed with hunger. Din let out a sharp cry, hands shooting down to hold Paz against his chest. He continued to lap at the pebbled piece of flesh to coax out some more while rolling the other between his fingers. Din convulsed violently as Paz bit down and sucked, an uncontrollable stream of wails and whimpers escaping his lips as he arched to push his nipple further into the warm cavern of Paz’s mouth sucking him dry; the smell of milk perfuming the air. Paz began to thrust and buck against the man crushed under him as he hand slipped between their bodies, only to find it obstructed by the offending article of modesty that was Din’s pants. He growled, releasing Din’s flesh from his mouth with a pop. Din tried to pull him back, but Paz slapped his hands away.

“Take off your pants. _ Now. _ ”

Din whimpered, obediently doing as he was told. The water rushed in between legs and he felt his cunt throbbing in response to it brushing over his lips, a warm dollop of slick dripping down his folded thighs. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind clouded by pheromones and arousal, the logical part of his brain was screaming at him to cease. To cease unless the both of them wanted to end up with consequences they both couldn’t afford. He dragged down his sodded pants, fingers trembling in a mix of excitement and trepidation. Paz slotted himself firmly between his legs, both moaning in unison as their slick cocks rubbed against each other; Paz gave a sloppy kiss as he rutted. Panic bubbled in him as their naked bodies pressed ever closer to each other.

“Pa..Paz…,”

The man gave a throaty _ hnnnnngh _ , nuzzling their helms together. 

“We…. _ we can’t _ .”

Paz clenched his jaw as they gripped both of them in his fist, Din bit his lip to clamp down his rising moan.

“I know love, I know…”

The man’s fist tightened between them, the joined heat and friction of their cocks becoming almost unbearable. Paz gasped and Din whimpered in turn, holding onto the wrist that held them both underwater. He quivered, wondering if his next words were wise.

“But you can...you can touch me.”

The latter shuddered at the offer. He stared at Din through his visor with blown pupils, though Din couldn’t see it; couldn’t see his own trembling body laid flat against the rock against him, his bitten and leaking breasts nor his red, swollen lips. Couldn’t possibly imagine how impossibly hard that feat would be.

How hard it was just to stop there, to not go further and make him his, forever.

“I can’t _ -it’s you _ ...I can’t trust myself.” He half-pleaded, helpless.

Din’s warm hand rose from the water to his cheek, cupping it. Paz closed his eyes and breathed in the heady air, luxuriating in the feel of his thumb against his cheek.

_ “I trust you.”  _

It was barely a whisper, so soft that if you didn’t strain your ears it would pass you by like the wind but Paz heard it; as clear as the sky above him and ringing as loud as wedding bells. Because it was meant for him,  _ the both of them. _

Din swallowed.

“I trust you and give myself over to you, Paz Vizsla.”   
  


Paz found himself speechless, the words that he wanted to say leaving his tongue as a dying whimper. Gently and carefully, he shifted Din’s thighs wider, urging the man to loosen his hold on his waist. Din followed without protest, though Paz could tell he was as unsure about this as he was, his thighs trembling in his grip under the water. Paz kissed him, distracting him as he relinquished his grip on both of their cocks, the hand curled around the man’s nape with the intention to soothe what was to come. Din’s hand came up to wrap around the man’s shoulder, helmet smushed against his chest. His hand trailed calming lines down his inner thigh, listening to the hitched gasp elicited as he brushed down the length of his cock. His fingers continued to slip further down, between the crease of slim legs  _ and...  _

Din cried out softly as Paz’s fingers finally glided across his lips, skimming the virgin folds with warm fingers. Paz breathed heavily above him, holding him close as fingers came unsurely to the small nub nestled between slick lips. Shyly, he took it between his fingers and rubbed it. Din jolted and a warm wet moan puffed against Paz’s chest.

“Are you...is that..?”

Din curled himself closer, wet beskar helm against his collarbone as he nodded. Paz, more confident now, continued with his ministrations, ignoring his angry cock begging for attention and instead on the varying degrees of moans and gasps Din elicited everything he tried for a different angle or touch. He slipped just the tip of his thumb into his entrance, the warm walls immediately clenching down and producing a healthy amount of slick that coated his thumb and dissolved into the water. Din was breathing heavily now, chest rising and falling rapidly with the increasing palpitations of his heartbeat. Paz felt it fluttering against his own thudding heart.

His other hand quickly shot out to cover Din’s mouth as he often did when he verged on hyperventilation. Muffled moans and whimpers of pleasure sounded behind his palm as his lips returned to their previous occupation, sucking and licking on the man’s chest as his fingers grew bolder and slicker by the second; Din’s inner walls clamping and clenching his intruding digits into his eager body. Din let out a choked gasp behind Paz’s hand he felt the whole length of the man’s finger settle into his body, so thick and large, almost like two of his own. The man switched to the other breast as he breached his second finger, making him feel as if he was about to burst with the searing stretch of flesh. The line between pleasure and pain was all but non-existent as Din started thrusting and bucking desperately into his fingers. Paz was getting more frantic himself, the hardness of his cock becoming downright painful as he disregarded it in favour of Din’s pleasure. The Omega was touched at the Alpha’s gesture. 

Paz released Din’s nipple from his mouth as he moaned at the small hand around his cock. The touch was unsure and shy as it pumped him up and down the bulging veins, catching over the rim of his forming knot before pressing his thumb on a bead of precum on the bulbous tip. All the while, Paz never halted his fingers either as it explored the inviting and mushy insides of the Omega.

“Hnnnnhh....gaaahh _ -Din _ ... _ ner sarad _ …” 

Din grunted behind his palm, hand vigilantly stroking Paz’s cock as the man groaned and moaned. Paz peeled off his hand and caught him in a kiss, tongues tasting of his own milk and Alpha-Omega pheromones;  _ tasting like the both of them _ . He swallowed the smaller man’s cry as he stuffed in three fingers, clasping him to him as he brushed over a spongy spot that sent the Omega into spurts of slick and wanton screams. He knew they were both close.

“Din...oh _ Din _ …,” He pleaded, breathless and tethering to the edge. “My Din,  _ look at me. _ ”

The man whined at a hard thrust of his fingers, fist tight around Paz’s bulging cock. His helmet tilted slightly to let him know he heard him.

“If we could...know that I...ah...I would in an instant-”

“I...I know...Ahhhhhhhnnn  _ Paz-! _ …” His words devolved into a loud scream as Paz pressed relentlessly against that spongy spot, legs buckling and writhing uncontrollably in the throes of crescendoing ecstacy. Paz knot was inflating like a red, angry balloon. He pried open Din’s fist to grab the both of them, folding hs fist over as he dragged and rubbed the both of their shafts at a brutal pace in chasing their joined high. He fought to speak, wanting Din to know what he felt even as they edged closer to the cliff.

“I..wouldn’t hesi-hesitate to gi...give you that little boy- _ our little boy _ …”

Din didn’t answer, couldn't answer as orgasm was threatening to tip him over. He writhed and screamed, yet his mind painted him a picture at the same time; a dim lit room and soft sheets, softer voices cooing over the edge of a crib with a dangle of tiny stars.

_ Our little boy. _ Something in him ached ferociously at the thought.

_ A little boy, a little baby boy with his hair and Paz’s eyes; a toothless, gummy grin and chubby hands that reached for his parents, so perfect and so theirs- _

Both their climax washed over them like a tsunami and Paz swallowed his scream as he gave a searing kiss, muffling his grunts as well. His insides convulsed and squeezed Paz fingers and his hips flailed as his knot inflated, strings of thick seed coating Din’s stomach. Din’s own throbbed and twitched as his second orgasm hit him, watery and transparent cum mixing in with Paz’s milky white. Paz collapsed his entire weight against him, chest heaving for lungfuls of air as the aftermath shook the both of them. Din slumped boneless against the rock, eyes looking toward the sky as blue as the ocean; as an infant’s eyes.

  
  
  
  
  


******

Din tried hard to make himself blend into the background of the classroom.

  
  


It had been almost a month since Le-his father had brought him in. Almost a month since he had been first enrolled in training classes, and it had been _ stupidly  _ hard for him to get on with the other children. It hadn’t been that difficult back on his home planet, he wasn’t the most popular sure, but he had  _ friends. _

Friends who were most likely dead now.

The thought threatened to make his eyes burn and he had promised not to cry again in class. The first few days in a strange environment had not been kind to him, and when he had stood in front of the class for the first time he had very, very visible tears running down his face. Errant thoughts about his past life had him suddenly bursting into tears out of nowhere. And the other children had stared at him and judged him with their eyes, for strength was everything in Mandalorian culture and  _ Mandalorians do not cry, his tutor had said. _

Din stood up abruptly (not that the others noticed) and headed out of the classroom to the restrooms. He pulled his red hood-the only thing he had left from his homeworld and Len, bless the man, had helped him mend the torn rag so he could wear it again-over his head to hide his face from passing children walking down the hallways. It was breaktime and there were loads of them roaming the hallways to find their companions in different classes. He was more preoccupied with watching them warily then the path in front of him.

“Hey, look out!”

He lurched as he suddenly tripped over someone’s nuna ball.  _ He thought they were only allowed to play on the training field.  _ Too late however, the ground loomed beneath him and he closed his eyes as he braced for impact-

Except he didn’t hit the ground and felt like he was being held up by something. He was about to formulate his gratitude to whatever teacher had caught him when he opened his eyes.

Except that it wasn't even a teacher who had caught him. He looked up to only be greeted by a pair of big, bright ocean blue eyes who looked back with confusion. Perfect blonde eyebrows arched in puzzlement.

He felt his entire face heat up like an oven at the sight.

Paz Vizsla, the famed sweetheart of the girls and best student among teachers, had caught him in the middle of the hallway packed with uncharacteristically silent students who followed the entire scene like a hawk. Din was rooted motionless by those blue eyes focusing on him so intensely.

_ “Oh Paz has the most dreamy eyes!” He overheard the girls giggling. _

“You’re the new student aren’t you?...Din right?”

Din continued to gape at him without a word, his mouth dry. His ears on the other hand, alerted him to the whispers from the other students who had stopped to look at the both of them. Paz seemed to notice too, eyes momentarily flicking to the side and the spell that beautiful gaze had held broke. Din was sobered.

He immediately sprang to action again and raced down the hall, not daring to think if the boy’s ocean blue gaze was following him.

******

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Something shifting the sheets stirred him from his sleep and drowsily, he opened his eyes. The wooden boards of the cottage roof were barely discerned with what little light the night provided, there were the sounds of crickets to be heard outside the open window where a cool breeze was carried in.

He shifted to his side and smiled fondly at the small silhouette of Din, the sheets rising and falling with his breaths. The man had also dragged almost all of the blanket with him; Din never liked the cold.

Paz curled an arm around the man’s bare waist, his bare back flush to his chest. The smaller man’s warmth soothing and Paz let it lull him back to sleep again.

[]

  
  
  
  
  


The days flew past like a summer breeze, soft and languid. After every assignment or so, they would spend a day together at the cottage, basking in each other's company. Din taught Paz how to cook, with less spices and more variety of other flavours. He would bring some rice, sauces and garnishes everytime they came around and Paz would catch a fish or dig through the river mud for shellfish because Din liked seafood. He would tend to the boiling soup while Din handled the sauce. Paz would then add the finishing touches with some gin or cider he brought and the two of them would sit down at the modest table to eat. Paz would complain that the food wasn’t spicy enough and Din would say how much of an alcoholic he and the rest of the Mandalorians were. The smaller man would end up a bit tipsy after everything because, as Paz would put it, had zero alcohol tolerance (and also because he may have lied about mixing in gin with some tasteless Corellian vodka) would proceed to retrieve the old music player from the room. Hefting the small Mandalorian to his feet as the music started to play and swaying them to the beat of the slow rhythm. He would hum and watch Din, who by that stage was really just a limp ragdoll clasped in his arms, slowly begin to doze off. Giving both a soft goodnight kiss, they would both retire for the night. And on and on it went; with Din cooking them a meal and Paz dancing them off to sleep.

It was almost ridiculous how peaceful their routine was, locked away in their little bubble from the rest of the galaxy. Oh sure that was a war raging in every corner of it, with millions dying and suffering that makes the prospect of having a peaceful existence seem selfish and disillusioned. Some might even say it was downright ludicrous.

But on that small moon of a faraway planet tucked in the outskirts of space, they couldn’t care less anyway. For life, even if only for a day, they lived it in all it’s rosy hues.

******

  
  


Both of them stood at the lowered ramps of their respective ships, ready to depart. The house droid was there to bring them their cleaned clothes they left behind last time, folded neatly and placed in their packs.

Paz held out his hand, and Din took it. He twirled him around like they were still dancing, and Din laughed as he did so. The playful twirl had him ending up pressed up against the man’s blue armored chest, who lifted him off the ground and nuzzled their helms together. Both of them grinned beneath their helms, revelling in the mutual affection.

“You’re pretty good at dancing now,  _ sarad _ .” Din pressed his forehead against Paz’s, creeping his fingers under the beskar to pull it up.

“Well, I had a pretty adept teacher, _ dear. _ ” Paz’s grin was blinding in its full glory and Din couldn’t help himself and pressed a kiss to it. Paz was attempting to go for another one when Din pushed himself away.

“We should get going now.” Paz pouted and leaned in closer again. Din shook his head and chuckled, giving the man a quick peck on the lips.

“Better?”

Paz pulled the helmet over his grin. “Better.”

They waved to each other from their cockpit before they each entered hyperspace and headed towards home.

******

Paz landed the  _ Maelstrom V _ in the Vizsla's estate docking gardens. He powered down his ship and ran an affectionate hand across the controls, patting it. He strolled leisurely through the familiar gardens with various gardener droids tending the plants, a wide grin plastered on his face as his head floated in the clouds. He slipped into the house through the front doors, where Shirley was standing there waiting for him.

“Welcome home, Master Paz.”

“Hmm. Hey, Shirl.” He slurred, still very much distracted by his own giddiness. The old droid followed after him as he walked to the elevator.

“Master Rusol and My Lady has requested your presence in the main hall immediately.”

“Really? Ok then.” He remarked lightly, turning and heading down to the hallway again. His mind worlds away as the doors opened for him, the Vizsla leaders waiting for him inside. Heck, even the presence of the Elders in the room didn’t irritate him like usual, or alert him to the tenseness in the room. He grinned dizzily behind his helmet as he nodded methodically to the Elders, errant thoughts buzzing in his brain.

The Elders said something to Rusol and left the room altogether. The man turned to face his son.

“Greetings, my son. I trust your last mission went well.”

“Yes, Father.” He replied automatically. He thought about bringing some spiced Jogan cider the next time he went around. Din was terribly cute when he was tipsy and on the verge of getting drunk. He’ll have to ask the kitchen droid to prepare some _ later- _

“Paz.” Aesyara spoke, voice soft and steady. Paz blinked and brought himself back to the room.

“Yes, Mother.”

The Vizsla matriarch raised one blonde eyebrow at her clearly distracted son.

“Your Father and I have had a meeting with the Elders.”

Paz nodded. He wondered if he should ask the droids to make the cider less spicy, Din did have a delicate stomach after all-

“As you know, you’re twenty now. The ripe age of adulthood in Mandalorian standards.”

_ -Din _ does however, love cinnamon an awful lot. Maybe he could ask the droids to use that to make the _ cider- _

“And you are the heir of the Vizsla clan. So in light of recent circumstances, we have come to an agreement with the Elders.”

_ -he _ should also sneak some of those sweets he used to give him. He was sure the droids had them stored somewhere in those  _ jars- _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“That you should wed Aedeta Vizsla by the end of the month.”

  
  
  
  


His thoughts stuttered to a rude halt. The faces of his parents stared back at him, waiting patiently for his response.

“Wed? Aedeta?” He finally replied, his throat suddenly very dry.

His Mother nodded while his Father remained standing impassively by her side, face unreadable.

“Yes. It is a match both parties agree on, and one the Elders are most satisfied with.” His eyebrows furrowed under the blue helmet, eyes wide with incredulity.

“Marry Aedeta, by the end of the month? Mother, _ Father _ -” He looked towards the man imploringly. “I’m barely the age to take over ruling yet!”

“We understand, Paz. However with the current situation, we have no choice but to hasten your future union.” Rusol answered.

“The current situation?” Paz asked, voice raising with emotion. “What current situation?”

“Paz,” Aesyara spoke again, her voice weary. She stood in front of Paz, who was a head taller than her and placed her hand on her son’s shoulder.

“There is a great unrest brewing in Mandalore. There are many who stand opposed to Duchess Satine for Clan Kryze’s handling of Mandalore’s involvement in the Clone Wars. The Death Watch is gaining more support than ever.” Aesyara’s face twisted in pain as she said that. Rusol chimed in, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder as well.

“Which is headed by your uncle, Pre Vizsla.” Paz was stunned speechless.

“Pre Vizsla is leader of  _ the Death Watch _ ?”

“Yes,” His Father continued. “He revealed himself a week ago at an attempted coup in the capital.”

A coup a week ago, _ a week ago he had been craving Din’s cooking as he took the third watch with Pua for the night on Rodia. The woman had commented on his unusual lack of focus. _

“There’s been outcry in the Senate of Clan Vizsla attempting to overthrow Satine because of our close affiliation with Death Watch. Your Mother and I would have to attend more Senate meetings from now on, and engage ourselves more in the war to prove our loyalty to the Republic.”

“Therefore,”Aesyara spoke up finally. “It is essential that you marry to secure the throne for succession. As your Father and I will be more at risk of passing suddenly with increased engagement in the war.”

Paz was not swayed however, when his mind supplied the image of the Elders who had just previously been in the room. They must’ve also played a part, if not entirely orchestrated the whole sorry affair. He took a step back from the Vizsla rulers.

“The Elders, they have something to do with this don’t they? Not just the Senate or the Republic.” Rusol sighed, looking in that instance as if he had aged thirty years.

“Son, the Elders were greatly offended by our decision of agreeing with your sister’s engagement. They have been pushing us all along to have you marry Aedeta as soon as possible. Now, they have a valid reason to, and we cannot ignore them again.”

A childish part of him wanted to scream and say that they had allowed Anarn to choose, so they should let him choose too. But he knew why their parents had let her, and why they won’t allow him. 

It was his childhood dream, what he strived to live up to all his life; the reason why others had always admired and been jealous about him.

_ “You are the heir. The heir to the House of Vizsla, and the throne comes first. The throne must always come first.” _

_ “Ah yes, love. Love is inconsequential and possesses no value when it comes to the virtues of ruling.” _

“I know that this is sudden, and a lot, perhaps too much will be expected of you from now on.”Aesyara continued, her voice the softest he’s ever heard. “I hope you can understand that your Father and I did not foresee this, and would like to apologize for the burden we are about to place on you.”

Paz saw saw the image of his parents blur through his visor, their sad resigned faces morphing into Din’s helm, staring back at him as he burned in betrayal and _ angu- _

  
  
  


_ The throne must come first. _

  
  
  


_ Must always come first. _

“No, _ buir _ . It is my duty and what I’ve been raised to do. I should be the one apologizing for raising my voice earlier.”

Paz placed his own hand over Aesyara’s on his shoulder, gently pushing it away as he knelt before his parents.

“I am ready to take my place on the throne, Mother, Father. And I will be wed to-”

  
  


_ What are you doing? What about him!? _

  
  


_ Stop this! Stop this while you still can! _

  
  


Paz took a deep breath and swallowed down the lump in his throat and bit down his tears.

  
  


_ Stop! Stop it! _

  
  


“-and I shall wed Aedeta Vizsla as wished by my Lord and Lady and my Elders.”

  
  


Paz tipped his head down, a single tear rolling down his cheeks; hidden beneath blank, unfeeling beskar. He felt both Rusol’s and Aesyara’s hand on his helmet, as cold as the moons of Hoth. Their voices, when they spoke next, were solemn.

“Then rise, Lord of House Vizsla.”

_ His heart seemed to shrivel and shatter at those words. _

[]

  
  


Young Paz trailed behind his father quizzically as they ventured deeper into the woods. The man had not uttered a word since they left Anarn and their Mother back at the summer house. He had just continued walking, the soft crunch of his heavy boots against the foliage soaking in with the rest of the sounds emanating from the forest. Paz strained to look up at the trees stretching above them; a flurry of greens and purples and yellows tightly packed together, save for the occasional gap of colourful leaves that allowed warm rays of the afternoon sun to peek through and shine onto the flowery forest floor. A warm summer breeze ruffled his hair as it whistled its way through the alien woodland.

His father just continued walking, seemingly unfazed by the scenery around them. As if he had seen it all a thousand times before.

  
  


A sudden feeling of worry crept into the young boy, and he wondered if he had angered his father with his stubbornness earlier. Perhaps his father had led him here to give some form of punishment under the tall alien trees. The thought greatly frightened him.

“Father?” He started, breaking the pregnant silence between the two of them, timidly.

“Yes, son?” The man answered without turning back to look at him. He didn’t sound angry though. A reptilian looking creature casted its shadow upon them as it flew past, Paz only managed to catch a glimpse of its glittery feathers before it disappeared.

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, son. We are almost there.”

The boy took that as his que to remain silent for the rest of their little excursion, lest he anger the Vizsla patriarch. It had always been their Mother who was more prone to show some form of displeasure. The female Omega had been noted to have a temper of sorts, though she never did anything more than give both siblings a stern scolding or a mild scalding glare at times. Paz had never seen his father angry before, or in the grip of any sort of heavy emotion actually; though Anarn had told him once that incuring their Father’s wrath was a dangerous gamble. Perhaps she had just told him that to scare him.

Paz was not willing to push his luck however, and indeed did remain silent for the rest of their walk through the woods.

As they continued on deeper into the forest, Paz noticed a little stream trickling beside them, with the water casting off some diamond-like glow from the rocks resting on the bottom. His eyes followed the trail of the stream as it gradually grew wider and wider with more water rushing at a more hurried speed. The stream eventually grew into a river, winding its way through the forest floor and Paz followed its path distractedly. So much so that he didn’t see his father stopping in front of him and walked straight into his beskar clad back.

His Father looked at him for a moment before uttering, “We’re here.”

  
  


They had emerged from the forest into a meadow littered with purple-yellow willow trees. The river that Paz had traced had led and finally ended up in a large, enclosed lake. The rocks and plants growing from the bottom dyed the water in a glassy purplish-green, giving the onlooker an impression of looking into a body of Murano glass, with white transparent lilies floating on the surface.

  
  


Then, with a large willow tree bending over its roof, was a small wooden cottage with vines crawling over it’s walls. Paz thought he had seen its likeness before from one of his picture books his nanny used to read to him when he was very young. Or from that Naboo painting that hung on one of the hallways back home, fairytale-like in it’s dreamlike scenery.

“This does not look like our summer house, Father.”

“And it isn’t meant to be.” Rusol replied, holding out his hand to his entranced son. Paz held on to his father’s hand as the man led the way.

“Come.” The boy let him guide his way through, still gazing enthusiastically at the scenery around him. His attention mostly divided between the glassy lake and the cottage. Rusol was proud that his son was able to appreciate the scenery around him, as he did when he had first happened upon it so many years ago. His son looked shocked when he had opened the cottage door, without a keycode or the press of a button. The door hadn't even slided open on its own.

“This really isn’t like the summer house at all.” Paz said, sounding a bit unsure. He nudged the boy inside the room.

“Well, the droid back at the summer house does come here to clean it out once a month.” Paz watched his Father pull open the faded curtains to allow some light into the room. It was smaller than even the drawing room at the summer house, but it was drastically different than the sleek, white interior of the more modernly equipped house. There was one light hanging from the middle of the ceiling, a small traditional fireplace at the corner that had to be lit manually. A small steel table with two chairs and an old model of an automated stove, and a door that led to what he assumed must be the bedroom.

“It’s really not like the summer house at all.” Rusol started to worry that the novelty of the place was starting to wear off from the boy.

But then the Paz’s eyes brightened as he declared loudly, “I love it!” Rusol smiled, removing his helmet and placing it on table, running his hands over the worn surface affectionately as Paz looked on.

“Does Mother and sister know of this place?”

“No, only you and I and…” His father paused suddenly, expression inscrutable to his son.

It passed like a fleeting shadow.

“..and the cleaning droid of course.” Paz nodded.

His father disappeared into the next room, before emerging with something of a music player. It looked like a very obsolete model, like the ones that were displayed in one of those museums on Coruscant. Paz remembered it being a very boring diplomatic visit.

“How does it work?”

“Well, why don’t you try it out?” Paz looked doubtful about the offer, looking back and forth between the contraption and his Father before finally taking it from the man. The man watched him as he randomly turned the thing around, before finally finding some dust worn buttons attached onto its side. Rusol smiled, undetected by his currently distracted boy as an old memory came flooding back to him.

  
  
  


_ “Does it still work?” _

  
  


_ “Why don’t you try it yourself then?.” A warm voice prompted. _

  
  
  


“Aha!” Paz exclaimed, finally pressing on the right button. The music player blinked to life and Rusol warmed at the sight of his son’s youthful excitement, taking it from him. He let the boy bask in his victory for as long as he could, scrolling through the list of songs in the player. For he was certain the boy wouldn’t be as happy as he was when he announced that they continue their dance lessons, at least he hadn’t caught onto him yet.

He proceeded to set the music player on the table as the song he selected was loading.

“Let us continue with our lessons.”

Paz’s expression immediately fell.

“Don’t worry son,” The man added. “I didn’t bring the step instructions with me. No more postures and timing and rhythms.” The boy didn’t look pacified however.

“This time I’ll actually join you.” Paz looked surprised for a moment, before drawing out a long, dramatic sigh. He looked on curiously as the boy came walking up to him, posture straight for once and holding back his sniggers as he held out his hand. Rusol cocked one blonde eyebrow, the hilarity of the situation not lost on him.

“Are you asking me for a dance, son?” The young boy grinned, so much of that famed Vizsla charm displayed on that youthful face. Sometimes, the man worried that the boy had inherited too much of it.

His son bowed, eager to continue his ruse. Perhaps the boy thought this act could dissuade him from continuing their lessons. Rusol decided to play along. The man mock curtsied at the boy, struggling not to laugh at his completely dumbfounded expression.

“Well son, weren’t you going to dance with me?”

Paz looked like he was about to back down but stubbornly tipped his chin up and smiled. As the old music player had finally finished loading the song, the old familiar tune started to play. Familiar at least, to Rusol’s own ears. His son was very much bewildered by the alien nature of the song’s melody.

“This song is strange, Father.” 

“Give it some time son, it’ll grow on you.” His father answered, letting his son take the lead. It was awkward, with Rusol needing to bend down to accommodate his son’s height; Paz needing to pace his steps faster so that he could keep up with his Father’s larger strides. However, he noted that his son was performing better now that there weren’t rigid rules and pre-constructed steps to follow.

_ In your opinion _

_ What have we seen of love? _

_ From me to you _

_ You really had me going( you had me fooled ) _

_ My love _

_ Though whether it pleases you or not _

_ As we danced the night away _

_ We loved each other _

_ For the length of a love song _

“Do you like this song, Father?” Paz asked curiously. The man continued to dance along with him, eyes closed as his lips moved to the words of the song, but he made no sound. “I do indeed.” He answered a little while later, eyes still closed, as if remembering. The song flooded the little cottage; it’s words carried away by the breeze to the lake and meadow outside.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“It is my most favorite indeed.” His Father smiled, eyes still closed.

[]

**Author's Note:**

> “Ori’buyce kih’kovid.”  
> A person that insists everything must go his way, I think (Kinda forgot where I got that term lol)
> 
> “Akay vi urcir tug'yc, ner ad.”  
> Until we meet again, my son.
> 
> “Gar etyc jag! mav ni!”  
> Pervert! Release me!
> 
> “Nayc!...nayc...Gedet'ye….bic aarayse..ahh-”  
> No!...no...Please...its hurts....
> 
> “Rejorhaa'ir ni, ner sarad.”  
> Tell me, my flower.


End file.
